


When You Run With The Doctor

by mountain_born



Series: The Marvelous Tale of an Agent, an Archer, and an Assassin [16]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Doctor Who/Avengers Crossover Fusion, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-14 09:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1260712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountain_born/pseuds/mountain_born
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you run with the Doctor, anything can happen.  From 2009 to 2012, River, Clint, and Coulson learn firsthand what it means to be the companions of a Time Lord.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a series of eleven vignettes describing eleven encounters River, Clint, and Coulson have with the Doctor, leading up to the events of the _Avengers_. Each one will be time-stamped with the “local time” for River and Co. along with the “timey-wimey” time if applicable. The vignettes will be posted over the next eleven days, one per day, with a bonus Prologue and Epilogue.
> 
> Some of these vignettes will be spun off into their own fics with a _Marvelous Tale_ twist. I am shamelessly lifting _Time of the Angels/Flesh and Stone_ and _The God Complex_ out of their canonical order so that I can plop River and Co. into the stories.
> 
> As always, I would like to offer up thanks and kudos to my incredible beta, **like-a-raven** who did the final pass of this fic while literally being sick in bed. Let’s give this lady a round of applause.

  
**Prologue**

When you run with the Doctor anything can happen.

River knew that. Nothing that involved the Doctor was ever going to be by-the-book. The only thing that could ever be predicted about the Time Lord was that he was bound to be unpredictable. River felt like she had spent most of her life making plans for and around the Doctor and, to date, not a damn one of them had come off as she’d expected.

For her first five or six decades, she had devised strategy after strategy for hunting him down and killing him. She had finally gotten her chance on 4 June 2000 in Queens, New York. Melody Pond had slipped the Doctor a dose of poison from the Judas Tree. It was a particularly nasty and painful way to die.

Thirty-three minutes and one serious pang of conscience later, River Song had brought him back to life. 

So much for killing the Time Lord.

No, predictability and the Doctor really didn’t go together.

“I have no idea what’s going to happen when he comes back,” River told Clint. “But whatever it is, it’s bound to be the last thing we expect.”

Clint was unconcerned, or at least less concerned than River would have anticipated. 

“We roll with the unexpected all the time,” he pointed out. “When the Doctor comes around again, whatever happens, we’ll deal with it. Just like we deal with a mission that goes sideways on us.”

Putting it in those terms did ease River’s mind, and she leaned over to give him a kiss in thanks. It was already a little strange for her to think how resolute she’d been that Clint could never know her secret. Now she couldn’t imagine not having him at her back. 

The Doctor dropped back into their lives at a moment when the Time Lord was the last thing in the world they were worried about. It was September, five months after the Doctor had visited the SHIELD base. River, Clint, and Coulson were on an assignment in Istanbul, racing to try to get out of a building that was exploding around them. It looked like it was a race they were going to lose. . .until the TARDIS appeared.

River had had certain ideas about what should be done when the Doctor reappeared in her life, most of which boiled down to _proceed with caution._ Well, screw caution. When River saw the TARDIS at the top of that swaying staircase, she grabbed Clint and Coulson and literally dove through the door while the building came crashing down.

Their arrival seemed to be a bit of a shock to Amy, Rory, and the Doctor, but they quickly rallied. They picked the three agents up out of the floor, dusting them off and prodding them for injuries and information.

“What in the world have you lot been up to?”

“Can you bend that? Any double vision?”

“Is that a bow? And arrows? Seriously?”

“How did you get through the door?”

“I have no idea. It just opened,” River answered to the last as she let Amy sit her down on a storage locker beside Clint. “We thought we were done for. We didn’t really think to knock.”

“How did you know we were in trouble?” Coulson asked.

“We didn’t,” the Doctor said. “We were on our way elsewhere and the TARDIS just veered off. She does that sometimes, and lucky she did, otherwise you’d all be nothing but smeary bits. Quite messy.”

“I don’t think it’s necessary to use terms like _smeary bits_ to people who nearly got crushed by a building,” Rory said.

“Oh, they’re fine,” Amy said. “They’re secret agents. I’m sure they almost get killed by things all the time. You’re fine, right?” she added to Coulson.

“We’re fine,” Coulson said with a nod and a not-quite-concealed smile. “We’ve all certainly been worse. Thanks for swinging by, even if it was by accident.”

“The back-up team has probably already being dispatched to the site,” Clint said. “Even if our last call didn’t get out, local police are going to be all over what’s left of that building.”

“We can drop you back off,” the Doctor said. “Or. . .” The Time Lord looked rather speculative. He turned to fiddle with something on the underside of the control console as he casually added, “Since you’re on board anyway, you could come along with us for a bit.”

River saw Amy and Rory both look at the Doctor with mild surprise. 

Clint glanced over at her before addressing the Doctor. “People are going to be looking for us,” he said.

“Well, yes. However.” The Doctor turned back to them with a smile and spread his hands expansively, looking around the control room. “Time machine. I can get you all back before anyone has time to worry about you.” He dropped his hands. “Come on. You’re international people of mystery. Think of it as an opportunity to broaden your horizons a little bit more.”

River felt both Clint and Coulson look briefly at her.

Running with the Doctor. It would be reckless and possibly foolish, especially with Amy and Rory right there. And yet, River had always known that it was going to come to this, hadn’t she? Amy and Rory and the Doctor had known her as _River Song_ the first time she had ever met them. That had to have come about somehow.

At least she had her two best friends with her. She wasn’t going it alone. That made this decision much, much easier.

River gave Coulson a slight nod.

“All right,” Coulson said to the Doctor. “We’ll go. One trip.”

The Doctor grinned, clapped his hands together, and swung himself onto the metal stairs, taking them up to the control console two at a time. “One trip!” he called down to them. “You won’t be disappointed, I guarantee it.”

“In answer to your question, yes, he’s always like this,” Rory said to River, Clint, and Coulson. He smiled at Amy when she gave him a light swat.

Rory and Amy started up the stairs to the control console, leaving the agents down below.

“One trip,” River said to Clint and Coulson.

There couldn’t be too much harm in that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Doctor takes River, Clint, and Coulson to Budapest.

**The First**

_September 2009 /_  
 _The Year 3813 -- The Motzbat Sector_

When he was seven years old, Clint Barton had wanted to be an astronaut.

He no longer remembered why, except all kids went through that phase, didn’t they? It had probably been sparked by some movie or another, _Star Wars_ or something in that vein. Something that had as much in common with real astronauts as _Mission Impossible_ had in common with real spies.

Sometime after his parents had died, that dream had fallen by the wayside. It hadn’t taken Clint long to figure out that poor kids being shuffled through the foster care system shouldn’t bother to wish for the moon.

When he was thirteen, he and his brother had run away from their latest “situation” and hidden in the back of a truck belonging to Carson’s Carnival. It hadn’t been because of some crazy desire to join the circus—that sort of thinking belonged to the era of rumble seats and soda fountains. It had been because Barney was about to age out of the system and rather than face being split up they had decided to get the hell out of Dodge together.

They’d been discovered one state over and hauled up in front of Carson’s leadership. Clint still remembered the hours of intense debate at high volume over whether or not the two runaways should be turned over to the cops. In the end though, the good people of Carson’s had decided to keep them. Circuses still had their own code and Carson’s hadn’t exactly been the _Most Law-Abiding Show on Earth._

Barney had made himself useful as a roustabout and Clint had followed along in his big brother’s wake until the day he had picked up a bow in the prop tent. _Astronaut_ had been out of his reach, but he’d gotten to be _The World’s Greatest Marksman_ instead.

Right at this moment, though, he remembered why the idea of traveling in space had been so appealing. 

The Doctor had taken them for a hop into the future, eighteen hundred years and “a spiral arm or three” away from home. They were on a space station, a real life _space station_ , and Clint Barton was standing in the stars.

All right, he was standing on an observation deck, but one with a floor and domed ceiling made of some sort of transparent material that let him feel like he was standing suspended in the void. And it was awesome.

Clint walked all the way out to the end of the deck where a thin strip of neon light marked the edge of the platform. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, just taking it all in, before he heard soft footsteps coming up behind him. 

River appeared at his side.

“You wandered off,” she said.

“Yeah. I was checking out the view.” Clint craned his head back, looking at the arc of stars and colorful swirls of gasses high, high overhead. 

He knew that River was smiling at him. She must have seen things like this before, Clint thought. She’d traveled in space for ten years during one of her lives. He wondered if a sight like this could ever get old.

“You can see a long way from here,” was all she said.

“Yeah.” He’d never had a vantage point quite like this one.

Clint’s ears picked up another set of footsteps, ones that stopped several yards off. He looked back to see Coulson standing at the edge of the observation deck.

Was it his imagination or was his S.O. looking a little green?

“Phil, you’ve got to come see this.”

“I can see just fine from here, thanks,” Coulson replied, keeping his feet firmly planted on opaque floor tiles.

Coulson looked over his shoulder as the Doctor, Amy, and Rory came around a corner.

“What did I say about wandering off?” the Doctor asked. “I distinctly remember saying something. The word _don’t_ featured quite prominently. The welcoming committee took longer than I anticipated, but everything’s fine now.” 

The Doctor smiled and spread his arms expansively. 

“We are officially guests aboard the space station _Budapest._ Now the fun really starts.”

It turned out that the Doctor had a weird definition of _fun._

*****

River didn’t intend to deliberately do anything to provoke the Doctor’s curiosity . He already had plenty of questions about her and didn’t exactly need any more encouragement.

But the Doctor was briefly out of commission, the TARDIS was spiraling out of control, and someone had to jump in. River had only ever piloted the TARDIS once before, but it was like riding a very large, extremely powerful, sentient bicycle. Fortunately it was a sentient bicycle that apparently liked her.

She’d have been lying if she said that she didn’t get some satisfaction from the look on the Doctor’s face, once he had flailed himself to a standing position and saw why the TARDIS had suddenly leveled out. He looked positively flabbergasted to see her at the controls.

Out of the corner of her eye, River saw Amy lean over to the Doctor. “How does she know how to do that?” Amy whispered. 

The Doctor’s eyes just narrowed.

“Oh, I learned from the best,” River said. When you couldn’t hide, the best thing you could do was embrace being seen. She smothered a smile when she saw the Doctor start to preen a bit and added, “Too bad you were busy that day.”

The Time Lord’s mouth fell open in indignation. River heard Clint, standing beside her at the control console, snort in amusement.

“Well, Doctor,” she added. “ _Budapest_ was lovely, if extremely hazardous. But I think we should be getting home now, don’t you?”

*****

The Doctor liked to be true to his word whenever he could manage it. He took the SHIELD agents back to Istanbul within fifteen minutes of when they’d departed. The sun was setting over the city when they all stepped out of the TARDIS again. The Doctor waved the others toward the door ahead of him, letting Amy and Rory and Agents Barton and Coulson step off first.

He laid his hand briefly on Agent Song’s arm, stopping her when she would have followed. Someone else might have looked confused, but she didn’t. No doubt she knew precisely why he wanted a private word. The Doctor studied her for a moment.

“You’re not going to tell me who you are, are you?” he said.

Agent Song half smiled and shook her head. “No. You’ll find out eventually, but no. I’m not going to tell you.”

She did look a little puzzled when the Doctor smiled broadly at that. “What?” she asked.

“You’re a mystery,” he said.

“And that makes you happy?”

“It does. Mysteries are interesting. Well, they’re interesting while they’re mysteries. Once you solve a mystery, you just have a bunch of boring facts. You? You’re practically a plethora of mysteries.” The Doctor folded his arms, leaning against the inside of the TARDIS’s door. “You know too much about me. You can fly a TARDIS. I’m willing to bet you were responsible for the Gallifreyan writing I saw hanging up in Agent Barton’s quarters last spring.”

The Doctor could feel his good mood grow as he went on. Oh, it had been a while since he’d had a puzzle like this.

“Then there are your friends, Agent Barton and Agent Coulson,” he continued. “Whatever your secret is, you’ve told them since I last saw you. Before, when I first met you, there were cracks between you and the two of them. You were keeping things from them, I’d wager. Now? Now, you’re a united front, so whatever your secret is, they’ve chosen to embrace you in spite of it. They even let you accept my offer to take you all on this little adventure.”

“Agent Coulson was the one that accepted.”

“But he looked to you. They both did. Your superior deferred to you and let you be the one to make that decision. Given who you work for, I’d say that’s very interesting indeed. Agent Song, you might well be Christmas to me.” The Doctor drew himself up and smiled. “So, I’m quite happy to have you remain a mystery for as long as you wish.”

Agent Song was not a Time Lord, of that the Doctor was certain. She could not even be a Time Lord who had been through a chameleon arch, otherwise she’d never remember things like TARDIS operations. But that still left all sorts of intriguing possibilities. Whatever Agent Song was, she didn’t seem to be causing any harm where she was, so there was no rush at all figure her out. 

The Doctor would just have to continue to look in on her, that was all.

It would be no hardship. He liked Agent Song. He liked all three of the agents, really. And keeping an eye on SHIELD might not be an all bad idea if they were playing with things like an Asgardian Tesseract.

“Well.” Agent Song looked like she didn’t know whether to be relieved by the Doctor’s words or not. “So long as you’re happy, Doctor.”

The door of the TARDIS swung open again and Agent Barton stuck his head in. “Everything all right in here?” he asked.

Agent Song nodded. “It’s fine. The Doctor just wanted to have a word.”

The Doctor noted that a short novella’s worth of silent communication seemed to pass between the pair of agents. United front indeed. 

They stepped outside to join the others. The TARDIS had put down across the street and down the block from the spot where they’d picked up the three agents. There was a large pile of rubble where the building had been, still settling and groaning and sending up clouds of dust and smoke. It was surrounded by onlookers and emergency responders. The Doctor also spotted a couple of black SUVs near the site.

Amy and Rory were looking fairly aghast at the scene. “Oh, wow,” Rory said. “I am really glad you guys weren’t in there.”

“Join the club,” Coulson said. “Looks like they sent Sitwell in,” he added as a man in a suit broke away from a small group around one of the SUVs and came running across the street toward them.

“Well, I think that’s our cue to depart,” the Doctor said. He waved to Amy and Rory. “Debriefings tend to be long and tedious affairs and I imagine this is going to be a whopper. We’ll be on our way.”

“Good-bye, Doctor,” Agent Coulson said as the Doctor and his companions re-boarded the TARDIS. “Thanks again for your help.”

The Doctor leaned out of the door for a moment, looking at each of the three agents in turn. He broke into a grin. “Until next time, agents,” he said before closing the door of the TARDIS on the world outside.

Until next time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which River and Amy bond.

**The Second**

_November 2009 /_  
 _The year 76,153 X.F. -- The Freighter_ Ambroisine

Subsequent trips with the Doctor didn’t require an exploding building to get River, Clint, and Coulson on board the TARDIS. It wasn’t that they were dropping their guards, but the allure of traveling in Time and Space was strong, even for SHIELD agents.

River had two additional compelling reasons for wanting to go again: Amy and Rory. And where River went, her friends were bound to go too.

After all these years, River finally had the chance to get to know her parents, even if they had to be kept completely in the dark about that fact for the foreseeable future. The entirety of River’s long, strange life could be attributed to the fact that Amy and Rory had chosen to travel with the Doctor. While River was happy with where she had ended up and did not want it changed, she was curious to know how it had all come about in the first place. 

Maybe by spending time with them, she could work it out. Maybe she would have gained some understanding by the time Amy and Rory found out who she really was.

Getting a fuller picture of Amy and Rory wasn’t hard. The young couple had no reason to keep secrets from the SHIELD agents. The circumstances under which River learned things were occasionally a bit colorful, though.

“Of all the stupid. . .” _Thump._ “Bloody. . .” _Thump._ “Ridiculous. . .” _THUMP._ “Ow!”

“You’re going to break your hand if you keep that up,” River said. 

River was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the security pod she and Amy had taken cover in. Amy was perched at the top of the metal ladder, beating ineffectively at the pod’s access hatch. It had sealed itself tight from the outside. 

Amy glared down at her. “You’re awfully calm about this.”

“We’re fine,” River said. “We have air, we have light, and we were able to communicate our position. At most we’re looking at an hour or so before the others can work their way over here and get us out. And frankly, given what’s running loose on this freighter, we’re probably safer in here than out there. Besides,” River added, “I’ve been locked up in way worse places than this.”

Amy came back down the ladder with a resigned sigh. “You know, it’s a little disturbing how cavalierly you lot talk about things like that. _Oh, that’s nothing! I was once chained up in a dungeon ten stories underground filled with man-eating scorpions and tortured with electric thumbtacks until I was able to use a bar of soap as a deadly weapon and kill fifty armed men on my way out.”_

“Clint told you about that one, did he?” River asked. Moments like this were one of the reasons she’d perfected a deadpan.

“Funny.” Amy slid down into the floor facing River, mimicking her pose. The pod was small enough that their knees bumped. “I just hate sitting around waiting to be rescued.”

“It’s not my favorite thing, either,” River admitted. “But there’s no getting around that sometimes it’s necessary. That’s an area SHIELD actually trains us in. How to wait.”

“I guess.” Amy folded her arms. “So, oh person-with-training, what are we supposed to do while we wait?”

River leaned back against the bulkhead. “We could talk, I suppose.”

Clint and Coulson would have recognized the deliberately casual tone in River’s voice, but Amy didn’t know her that well. 

“I suppose we could,” Amy agreed. She was starting to look considerably less irritated and she shifted a bit, making herself more comfortable. “So. Tell me about your fella.”

River nearly choked. “My _what?_ ”

The three SHIELD agents were having to play a lot of things close to the vest, but River’s relationship with Clint wasn’t one of them. The fact that Amy had picked up on it wasn’t exactly a surprise. River had just never expected to be questioned about her “fella” quite so forthrightly.

And by her mother, no less.

Amy’s face had started to light up with mischief. “Agent Barton,” she said. “Or Clint. Hawkeye. Whatever you call him. I mean, he is your boyfriend, right? That’s fairly obvious.”

“Not too obvious, I hope.” Not hiding was one thing. Carelessly telegraphing was another.

“Why?” Amy asked. A thought seemed to occur to her. “What, is that not allowed? Are secret agents not supposed to date each other?”

“It’s. . .complicated,” River said.

As it happened, SHIELD fraternization regs weren’t as cut-and-dried as River had thought when she and Clint had fallen into bed in a hotel room in Chicago. Romantic relationships between agents weren’t exactly encouraged, but so long as it wasn’t a distraction (to the agents involved or to their colleagues) it wasn’t outright forbidden. That said, River and Clint were pretty careful about what they let show in public.

“I bet,” Amy replied. “So, how did you two meet? On the job I guess?”

“In a manner of speaking.” River weighed her next words carefully for a few moments. “I was the job.”

Amy frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Before I worked for SHIELD I was what you might call an _independent contractor,_ ” River said. “I was trained to be an operative from the time I was very young. At a certain point, I broke away from my former handlers and went out on my own.”

River stole a glance at Amy.

“I worked for the highest bidder,” River continued, “and I did a lot of bad things. I stole intel, committed acts of sabotage, obtained cooperation using whatever means I had to, and beat down anyone who got in my way. Sometimes I just eliminated people. By the time I was eighteen I had made more kills than some career agents do. 

“Honestly, I did a lot of the same things I do now for SHIELD, except back then there was never any greater good at the end of the tunnel. There were never any people I was trying to protect or help, and some of the people I worked for were the worst of humanity. But I worked for them because I was good at my job and they paid me well for it.”

Amy looked a little wary, though probably not nearly as much as she ought to. “Why are you telling me all this?” she asked.

River shrugged. “I just thought you ought to know.”

There would come a day when Amy would know exactly who River was. When that day was to come, River had no way of knowing. River thought it only fair that Amy should know both the good and the bad about her daughter before that time came.

“So, how did you go from that to working for SHIELD?” Amy asked. “It sounds as if they do a lot of creepy things too, but they’re still the good guys, right?”

“They are, and that’s how we crossed paths.” River shifted a bit on the hard metal deck. “You can’t do what I did without pissing off people in high places. I caught SHIELD’s attention and they decided to take me out. They sent Clint to do the job.”

“Well.” Amy looked only slightly shocked. “I’ve got to say, that’s not a how-I-met-my-boyfriend story that you hear very often. But what happened? He obviously didn’t kill you.”

“No. No, he decided to bring me in alive instead. He caught me in a vulnerable spot and got me talking. Then he waiting until I dropped my guard and stabbed me with a tranq dart.”

The look of indignation on Amy’s face was absolutely priceless. “Oh, _cheater!_ ”

River started laughing. “That was my feeling on the subject.” She leaned her head back against the wall. “God, I spent a long time being mad at him, wondering what he wanted, what his angle was. I finally got it through my head that there was no angle. He just thought I should get a second chance. He went to the mat for me with Coulson, and then they both went to the mat for me with Fury. Not many people would have done that.”

Amy smiled. “They sound like really good guys.”

“They are.” Sometimes River still couldn’t believe that she’d caught such a lucky break. “What about you and Rory?” she asked. “How did you two meet?”

River’s knowledge about Amy and Rory was, when you got right down to it, rather limited.

“I’ve known Rory forever, or close to it,” Amy said. “When I was seven my family moved down from Scotland to Leadworth. Rory lived down the road and he was in my class at school. He was just _always_ there, started following me around practically the day we moved in.” Amy smiled a little and shook her head. “It took me a while to appreciate him, but he waited. He waited a long time for me. Even said it was worth it.”

“That’s nice.” That was one scenario she’d never really considered, Amy and Rory meeting as children. River found herself feeling oddly sentimental at the notion. “What about the Doctor?” she added after a moment. “When did you meet him?”

“Actually, that happened when I was seven, too.”

“Really?” River didn’t even try to hide her curiosity. “How? What happened?”

“There was something bad in my house,” Amy said. “I needed help and there he was.”

It didn’t take much pressing at all for River to get Amy to tell her the story in its entirety. She actually got more entirety than she’d banked on. River heard about a crack in a wall that let through voices in the night, a raggedy man in a blue box, and a late-night feast of fish fingers and custard. That one mad night had been followed by years and years of ordinariness in which Amy’s Raggedy Man was relegated to the role of _imaginary friend_ until the day he had unexpectedly landed in her backyard again and changed the course of her life.

River heard stories of star whales and vampires and a Roman Centurion who kept a lonely watch for almost two thousand years. She heard about a Time Lord dancing at a wedding in a universe that had been completely unwound and rewritten again. She was actually a little disappointed when they started to hear odd scrapes and thumps at the access hatch over their heads.

Amy tipped her head back, looking up.

“Whoever you are, you’d better be friendly. We’re armed and very dangerous in here,” she called.

“Yeah, I think we’re all aware of that,” Rory’s muffled voice replied. There was a slight _pop_ as the seal gave and the hatch opened. Four faces peered down into the pod: Rory, Clint, Coulson, and the Doctor.

“Are you two all right?” Coulson asked.

“Pins and needles from the knees down, but otherwise fine,” River said. Bracing her hands on the walls for leverage, she scooted up to a standing position. 

Amy pulled herself up on the ladder. “Yes, we’ve been having a lovely chat,” she added. “What did we miss?”

“Well, the cargo now has complete control of the ship,” the Doctor said. He looked positively delighted. “And we’re sailing full-steam-ahead into one of the worst space storms this sector has seen in ten thousand years. Plenty of excitement still to be had. Off the bench, ladies. You’re needed.”

The Doctor whisked out of sight. River saw Clint shake his head in mild exasperation as he reached down to give Amy a hand up the last few rungs of the ladder.

“That man is freaking insane,” Clint said, helping Amy up over the lip of the hatch and then reaching down for River.

“How did you get by those things?” River asked.

“With three of my hearing aids and some hocus pocus with the sonic screwdriver,” Clint replied. 

“Yes, fortunately Agent Barton is _very_ deaf,” the Doctor said. “The amplification was just what was needed.”

Clint rolled his eyes at River. He tapped his left ear. “You have your set of spares? We had to use Phil’s set plus one of mine. I’m dead on this side.”

“Sure.” 

River and Coulson always each carried a spare set of hearing aids, just to be safe. River fished the case out of a hidden pocket and handed it over. 

Clint clasped her hand briefly before taking it. Over his shoulder, River saw Amy glance back and grin at the two of them. 

“Are you sure you’re good?” Clint asked.

River returned Amy’s grin then looked back to Clint. “I’m good,” she said. “Now, let’s take back this ship, shall we?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Coulson and the Doctor pull a little slight of hand.

**The Third**

_February 2010 /_  
 _1047 AD – Iceland_

Coulson never did figure out how the Doctor managed to access their cell phones without them noticing.

He was working in his office one afternoon when his phone rang. Coulson frowned at the screen. A name hadn’t popped up, only a number, and it wasn’t one that he recognized. Coulson answered. “Hello?”

 _“Knock, knock!”_ a muffled voice said. 

Coulson put his hand over his other ear, trying to hear. “Who is this?”

There was a high pitched whirring sound, and then the voice came through loud and clear. _“Doctor.”_

“Doctor? How the hell did you get this number?”

_“Oh, come on, Agent Coulson. Do it properly. Finish out the joke.”_

This wasn’t happening. He was being contacted by an alien to take part in a knock-knock joke.

“Is there something I can do for you, Doctor?” Coulson asked.

_“Yes. You and Agent Song and Agent Barton can come meet me on the roof. There’s something I could use your help with.”_

*****

Aliens. There were aliens in 11th Century Iceland. Aliens who were apparently planning to use the island’s volcanic energy to power a full-scale invasion of planet Earth.

The History Channel had somehow missed this one.

Coulson and the Doctor had managed to sneak on board one of the shuttles that the aliens (the Grawlmornet, according to the Doctor) had parked on the slopes of the volcano. The Doctor had used his sonic screwdriver and the shuttle’s communication system to hack into the surveillance network. They now had eyes on what was happening in the Grawlmornet’s main base camp, further down the mountain.

“This isn’t good,” Coulson said, looking over the image on the screen.

“Yes,” the Doctor replied. “I’m afraid that I have to agree with you.”

They were watching the feed from the command room of the base camp where Clint, River, Amy, Rory, and a handful of local villagers were being held hostage by at least three dozen Grawlmornet.

Ordinarily, Coulson wouldn’t have been too worried about Clint and River. They’d been in tight situations before. Granted, not quite like this, but they could fight their way out of nearly anything. They had at least ten civilians to worry about right now, though. The terrified villagers didn’t exactly look battle-ready and, while Coulson knew that Amy and Rory could handle themselves, they weren’t combat trained. Add in alien weapons and technology, and Clint and River were at a serious disadvantage.

Supreme Commander Khal of the Grawlmornet had been quite clear in his demands. He had broadcast them over the intercom system just five minutes ago. The Doctor needed to surrender himself in twenty-five minutes or the hostages would be killed.

“The obvious problem here being that I need to be able to sneak in the back of their base camp to defuse the reactor,” the Doctor said, conversationally, “and I can’t do that and be front and center for the Supreme Commander.” The Doctor looked over at Coulson. “I don’t suppose you know how to defuse a volcanic reactor, do you?”

Coulson shook his head. “Sorry, Doctor.”

“Right.” The Doctor braced his hands on the console. “So, what I need is a way to be in two places at once. Unfortunately, I don’t clone, I regenerate.”

The Doctor seemed to freeze for a second, then he looked up at Coulson with a sudden, disturbingly sly smile. “So, that’s what I’ll do.”

Coulson didn’t think he liked that look. “What do you mean?”

“Tell me, Agent Coulson. Do you like magic?”

“Magic?” Coulson eyed the Doctor warily. “Why do you ask?”

The Doctor just grinned.

“Because you and I,” he said, tossing his sonic screwdriver from one hand to the other, “are about to pull a little slight of hand.”

*****

“How’s the head?” River whispered.

Clint kept his head bowed, grunting quietly in reply. River would know how to interpret that. Yeah, his head throbbed and there was a sticky, stiffening patch over his ear, but he wasn’t nearly as hurt as he was acting. If they were going to fight their way out of here, Clint wanted to be sure that their captors underestimated him.

Clint and River, along with a handful of civilians, were sitting in the floor on one side of the base camp’s main chamber. The place had clearly been cobbled together on the fly with no respect for rhyme, reason, or anything resembling a building code. Cables and circuits were strung haphazardly overhead, occasionally throwing off sparks. They could hear the loud humming of the volcanic reactor below.

Clint and the others were under guard, but the Grawlmornet weren’t paying too much attention to them. Not enough to separate them and crack down on conversation, anyway. Amy was talking quietly to a couple of the villagers they had been taken with. Handy shit, that TARDIS translation service. Amy was comforting them, telling them not to worry, that the Doctor would get them out of this. 

Rory, on the other hand, was quiet and watchful. On point. God, he was a lot like River, sometimes. Or she was like him. Whichever. River could flirt like Amy and had the same Scottish tenacity, but on the whole Clint thought River had somehow managed to turn out a lot more like her father.

Okay, maybe his bell had been rung harder than he’d thought.

“How much time left until the deadline?” he asked.

“Eleven minutes,” River replied.

“We need a plan.”

“The Doctor will come through,” Amy said.

“We need a plan,” Clint said again. “In case—”

The obnoxiously loud walkie-talkie on the table suddenly emitted a burst of static. _“Supreme Commander! This is the South Gate. We have the Doctor. I repeat, we have the Doctor.”_

Supreme Commander Khal drew himself up, folding both sets of arms, his face going bright orange. “Excellent! Bring him in.” 

_“At once, sir!”_

Khal looked over his own people and his hostages, puffing out his chest and smiling with smug satisfaction. Clint was familiar with that pose. The body language for _arrogant asshole_ seemed to be fairly universal. The Supreme Commander had forced the Doctor to comply with his demands and now planned to rub his nose in it.

“Now we shall see this so-called Mighty Warrior,” Khal said. “Mark this day! The Destroyer of Worlds will be brought low before the Grawlmornet!”

“Jesus, what a megalomaniac,” Clint muttered. He heard both River and Amy snort in amused agreement.

Rory leaned over. “I have no idea what’s about to happen, but we should all be ready to run when it does.”

Khal might be gleefully anticipating facing off with the Doctor, but his people looked less thrilled. Some of them looked downright terrified. When the escort group from the South Gate arrived, the ones in front were actually walking backwards so they could keep their weapons trained on. . .

_. . .Phil?_

“No fucking way,” Clint heard River say under her breath.

Clint had seen Coulson walk into plenty of hazardous situations, and the confident stride and small, unconcerned smile were quite familiar. The guards might as well be holding water pistols on him for all he seemed to care. Coulson walked into the middle of the room, not even glancing at the hostages, and stopped before Supreme Commander Khal.

“Hello,” Coulson said calmly. “I’m the Doctor. I understand you wanted to see me.”

“Doctor.” Khal looked Coulson up and down with triumph and undisguised contempt. “You are certainly not what I anticipated.”

“That’s what they all say,” Coulson replied. “And now that I’m here, what’s the plan? An overt display of power accompanied by pain and possibly some ritual humiliation?”

“You speak bravely, Doctor, but in a very short time, you’ll be far less complacent about your fate,” the Supreme Commander said.

Coulson raised his eyebrows in a way that tended to either intimidate or infuriate whoever he was talking to. It was the look of the man with the upper hand.

“Oh, we seem to be misunderstanding each other,” Coulson said. He pulled the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver out of his pocket. “I wasn’t referring to my fate. I was referring to yours.”

Then he aimed the screwdriver at one of the sparking relays overhead, and all hell broke loose.

*****

Clint and River sprang into action the moment Coulson used the sonic to set off a short-circuit cascade of biblical proportions, jumping the guards and taking them down with well-practiced coordination.

 _“Holy. . .”_ Amy said at the sight, even as she and Rory hustled the villagers over the inert bodies and toward the exit.

They all got out just in time.

For a couple of minutes there, they actually thought they’d lost the Doctor. The reactor didn’t so much get defused as blown, taking half of the hillside with it. Just when they thought they were going to have to physically restrain Amy from going back in, though, a dirty, gangling shape emerged from the smoke. A white smile, spreading from ear to ear, was visible before anything else.

“Right, wonderful! Excellent team effort, everyone,” the Doctor said, shaking hands and patting backs all around. Coulson found himself on the receiving end of the most awkward hug of his life.

“And you, Agent Coulson, you were brilliant!” the Doctor said. “Even I almost believed you were me.”

“You can’t imagine what that means to me, Doctor,” Coulson said dryly, handing back the sonic screwdriver. “So, what happened with the. . .?” He nodded at what was left of the base camp.

The Doctor waved off the question. “Long story. I’ll tell you all about it on the TARDIS. Debriefing, isn’t that what you call it?”

Coulson didn’t bother to point out that the Doctor had firmly classified debriefings in the _waste of time_ category.

It was a bit of a hike back to where they had left the TARDIS, parked in a scrubby patch of forest. Clint and River took point, just to be on the safe side. Amy and Rory strolled along behind them, hand-in-hand. Coulson and the Doctor brought up the rear. 

“So, Doctor, are you planning to call us often to go off on these adventures?” Coulson asked as they walked along.

“Thought I might,” the Doctor replied. “You’re all very handy in a pinch.” He clapped Coulson on the shoulder. “And you’re always welcome to return the favor. We make a pretty good gang.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are Anglican Marines and Weeping Angels.
> 
> (This vignette references an AU-version of _Time of the Angels_ and _Flesh and Stone._ It will be spun off into its own longer fic later.)

**The Fourth**

_Wales, April 2010 /_  
 _The 52nd Century -- Alfava Metraxis_

Hiking cross-country in Wales, in January, in the rain wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good time. But SHIELD ordered and Clint, Coulson, and River went. They had been dispatched to search for a suspected piece of alien technology that had touched down near Cardiff.

 _Suspected_ turned to _confirmed_ when they came over the crest of a hill to see the TARDIS and three familiar figures standing in the middle of a field.

“Agents!” the Doctor said delightedly as they approached. “Fancy meeting you here. You managed to beat UNIT _and_ Torchwood. Oh, that’s rather embarrassing for them.”

The Doctor and his companions had picked up on the alien artifact too, as it turned out. The plain black cube, about a foot square, lay in the wet winter grass. It looked harmless. Innocuous. Clint said as much.

“It is,” the Doctor told him. “This is a home box from a Class Z4 Starliner. It’s like an airplane flight recorder. It somehow fell through a rift in Time and Space. It flashed right by us in the Vortex. We followed it here.” The Doctor scanned the black box with his sonic screwdriver. “It’s transmitting a message.”

“What does it say?” Coulson asked. 

“Let’s find out.”

*****

The message had been a distress signal, staticy, garbled, and panicked. It had been clear enough for the Doctor to get coordinates off of it, though, and they had followed them back to the source. It hit Coulson later that no one (himself included) had questioned whether or not the SHIELD team would be coming along.

Possibly he should worry about that when he had a spare moment.

The starliner had crashed on a deserted planet called Alfava Metraxis, right on top of a huge ruined temple left behind by the previous inhabitants. The native population may have gone the way of the dinosaurs at some point, but the Doctor and his party weren’t the first on the scene of the crash. There were already people there, securing the site. Anglican Marines, agents of the Church, under the command of Bishop Octavian. 

“Doctor,” Bishop Octavian said once the introductory pleasantries had been worked out. “The situation here is incredibly sensitive. My men and I would be happy of your assistance.”

River wound up being a very good liaison between the Doctor’s party and the Marines. Unsurprising, Coulson thought. These were, after all, a permutation of the people she had grown up with.

But even River was a little thrown to discover that Octavian’s Marines included a fresh-scrubbed, brand-new recruit named Elizabeth Stuart.

Cleric Elizabeth was all of eighteen years old and still several years away from her marriage to Robert MacDonald, but River had recognized her right away. 

“This is before the Silence,” River told Clint and Coulson when the three of them had a private moment to put their heads together. “This is probably about a decade before the Kovarian Faction officially splits off from the Church.”

Coulson saw Clint cast a dark look at the blissfully unaware Cleric Elizabeth. Coulson knew that Clint had fantasized about kicking the shit out of certain people from River’s past: The MacDonalds, Madame Kovarian, Dr. Weatherby, he wasn’t picky. He trusted that Clint would be able to curb the impulse.

“So are we in a time before the prophecy comes into play?” Coulson asked.

River had told him and Clint about the prophecy regarding the Doctor, the one that said he’d be the undoing of the entire Universe. She’d been very well versed in it, thanks to her upbringing. It was that prophecy that had caused (would cause—Jesus, Coulson hated time travel sometimes) the Kovarian Faction to split off in the first place.

“I have absolutely no idea,” River replied. “My knowledge of the Church before the schism is pretty rudimentary, I’m afraid.” 

The three of them quickly shut up when Rory approached. “Hey. The Doctor wants everyone over at the command post,” he said.

“He’s found something?” Clint asked.

“Trouble. As usual,” Rory said wryly. “He’s figured out what brought the ship down. Come on.”

“What is it?” River asked.

Rory glanced back at them. He looked thoughtful.

“You know,” he said to River, “the Doctor says that you know all sorts of things that you really shouldn’t know. What do you know about the Weeping Angels?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Doctor accidentally crashes a meeting.

**The Fifth**

_June 2010_  
 _London_

It was a good bet that only the Doctor could manage to crash a secret SHIELD meeting.

Clint, Coulson, and River were in London to attend a meeting with some of their UK-based counterparts. They had rendezvoused in a private capsule on the London Eye, posing as tourists, to talk over secrets of world security while the giant wheel rolled lazily upward and London spread out below them. As work conferences went, it was pleasant and had a bit of a feel of a reunion about it. Deputy Director Griffith from the Brighton base was present, along with Agent Stone, an old and good friend as fellow agents went. 

Mrs. Andrews had been brought along for the meeting as well. The middle-aged Scottish secretary was posing as Griffith’s wife for the sake of adding another layer of subterfuge to their covers. 

“I suppose one is never too old to try a spot of fieldwork,” Mrs. Andrews said once they were on board their capsule. 

“And what do you think?” River asked.

“It’s rather exciting, isn’t it?” Mrs. Andrews said with a broad smile. “It’s fun being in a crowd when no one knows what you really are.”

“Are you considering a career change?”

“God in Heaven, no!” Mrs. Andrews laughed. “I came along on this little venture because Agent Stone assured me that it would be appallingly low risk. And I did want to get a chance to see our favorite New York agents again.” 

Agent Stone, River thought, had a point. The London meeting was the mildest of milk runs. At least it was until the giant wheel suddenly shuddered to a halt with a great grinding of gears.

“What the hell. . .?” Coulson said as the capsule shook, its lights flickering.

“Feels like we lost power,” Agent Stone said. “But I’ll be damned if I know. . .”

He was interrupted by a familiar (at least to three members of the party) wheezing, whining groan. As Griffith, Agent Stone, and Mrs. Andrews watched open-mouthed, the TARDIS phased into existence inside the capsule.

It was not the usual tidy blue box that River, Clint, and Coulson were getting used to seeing. The TARDIS was smoking and draped with something that looked almost like luminescent seaweed, and if a wooden box could look drunk, this one rather did. The doors burst open and the Doctor, Amy, and Rory (coughing, eyes streaming) came pouring out in a cloud of vile-smelling green smoke.

“What the hell happened to you guys?” Clint asked, quickly closing the TARDIS doors to prevent any more of the smoke from escaping.

“Monster. Big, big monster,” the Doctor said, falling onto the bench in the middle of the capsule. “Almost didn’t get away in time. Very good to see friendly faces.”

“The thing practically tried to swallow the TARDIS,” Amy added. She guided Rory, who looked like he could barely see, over to the bench as well, sitting him down. “And now she’s pitching an unholy fit. Is there water or anything?”

River handed Amy the bottle of water from her bag. Amy started using it to flush a protesting Rory’s eyes out.

“Agent Coulson. . .?”

Deputy Director Griffiths, Agent Stone, and Mrs. Andrews were standing in a clump at the far end of the capsule, staring at the strange tableau that had suddenly dropped into the middle of their quiet meeting. Agent Stone had his hand under his jacket, no doubt reaching for his sidearm.

“Deputy Director Griffiths, this is. . .” Coulson looked from the Time Lord and his companions, to the smoking TARDIS, to Clint and River, who both just shrugged. “You know, it’s a really long story.”

They wound up being stuck at the top of the London Eye for quite a while. Whatever had screwed up the TARDIS’s systems, the interference seemed to somehow have affected the Eye’s electrical system. Even the Doctor couldn’t say quite how. He did, once everyone had caught their breath again, duck back into the TARDIS to assess the damage. The smoke inside seemed to have dissipated, and Agent Stone curiously leaned in through the open doors, whistling at what he saw inside.

“So, this is a UFO,” he said.

“Well, not in the strictest sense. Agent Coulson, Agent Barton, and Agent Song know very well who we are, so you could say that we’re not exactly _unidentified_.” The Doctor reemerged from the TARDIS. “I think we’ll be fine once her systems reset. In the meantime, we have a lovely view. So, agents, tell us what you’ve been up to.”

Deputy Director Griffiths used the time to make a not-exactly-secretive call to Fury. As for the rest, they made themselves as comfortable as they could on the capsule’s bench and the floor.

Mrs. Andrews was the one exception. The older woman was obviously less than copacetic about this strange turn of events on what was supposed to have been a pretty mundane workday. She was standing ramrod straight with her arms tensely crossed. Her eyes nervously darted from the TARDIS to the Doctor and his companions to the windows looking out over Parliament. She looked like the human equivalent of an exposed bundle of nerves.

River drifted over to her, laying a sympathetic hand on Mrs. Andrews’ arm. Mrs. Andrews stared at her blankly for a moment before drawing a long, uneven breath.

“Are you all right?” River asked.

She got a wan smile in response. “I suppose I’m not much of a one for excitement after all,” Mrs. Andrews replied.

“It’ll all be fine,” River said. “Like the Doctor said, once the TARDIS resets, the electrical system should kick back on. Or, if we need to, we can ask the Doctor to take us down to ground level. I’m sure he’d be happy to.”

Mrs. Andrews looked across the pod at the Doctor. “This man. The Doctor? He’s your friend?”

River followed her gaze, and to her surprise found herself smiling just a bit. “I suppose he is,” she said. “In a very odd, very roundabout way. He’s a friend.”

River was even halfway sure that was the truth.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which River and the Doctor have a late-night cuppa.
> 
> This section ties into events of _The God Complex_ , which will be given its own AU-ified fic at a later date.

**The Sixth**

_November 2010 /_  
 _Deep Space_

It felt like the entire TARDIS was sleeping.

Clint was certainly down for the count. He had gone from wide awake to crashed out and was now sprawled across the bed in the room that Amy had ushered them into several hours ago. (Amy had first ruled several rooms out for them. “What is it with the Doctor and bunk beds?” she had muttered before finding them a room with a queen-size.)

Well, it had been a tiring day. Possibly it had been a tiring couple of days. They’d gotten trapped in a floating prison, an endless holographic complex, cloaked in the guise of a common hotel, populated by nightmares, and ruled over by a monster.

A monster who turned out to be even more trapped than they had been. 

They had all been dragging by the time they’d re-boarded the TARDIS.

River pulled a blanket over Clint. He mumbled in his sleep. River paused, waiting to see it he’d wake up, but he just rolled over and burrowed down into his pillow. 

River quietly let herself out of the room.

She paused outside of the door of Coulson’s room, pushing it open just enough to peek in. Coulson had been too tired to be picky and was laid out, snoring, on a bottom bunk. River eased the door closed again and moved on.

She deliberately didn’t let herself think about endless, inoffensive hotel hallways as she followed her nose through the TARDIS’s corridors. 

The TARDIS had a kitchen. Realistically, the TARDIS probably had several kitchens, but this was the one River had seen before. It was large and cluttered and looked vaguely like it had fallen out of the 1950s, but it had a stove, a kettle, and was stocked with tea.

River needed a very, very large cup of tea.

_I’m British. It’s how we cope with trauma._

Poor Rita. If she’d lived, the Doctor might have had to arm-wrestle SHIELD for her.

River had put the kettle on to boil and located a mug when someone behind her spoke.

“There are some biscuits in the left-hand cupboard if you want some.”

River didn’t quite jump, but she couldn’t help the full-body flinch of surprise.

“You know, Doctor,” she said, turning away from the stove, “it’s really not a good idea to sneak up on someone who kills people for a living.”

“Yes. I’ve been told that before. Several times, now that I think on it.” The Doctor stepped out of the shadows and sat down at the table. He looked tired too, River noted. Worn.

Old.

“I heard someone moving about. I thought it might be you,” the Doctor added. “I think we should talk, don’t you?”

River eyed him for a moment before turning back to the stove. She silently readied a second cup of tea and located the package of biscuits. Once the water had boiled, she loaded the lot onto a tray and carried it over to the table where the Doctor had been waiting with surprisingly quiet patience.

“You want to talk about what was in my room,” she said, sitting down across from him and handing him one of the mugs of tea.

There had been rooms upon rooms upon rooms in the prison, each one containing a person’s deepest, most primal fear. River had been no exception.

“You saw me,” the Doctor said. “In your room. You saw me.”

River hadn’t been the only one who had been brought up short by the sight of a second Doctor standing in the middle of that room.

“I’m your worst fear.” The Doctor looked across the table at River. There was something deep down in his eyes that looked genuinely pained. “Why? River, what did I do to you?”

_What will I do?_

That was something River had come to realize about the Doctor. He did do a great deal of harm, it couldn’t be denied. But he also bore so much regret for it that he could even feel the weight of things that he hadn’t done yet.

_An ancient creature, drenched in the blood of the innocents. Drifting in space through an endless, shifting maze. To such a creature, death would be a gift._

“I can’t tell you,” River said.

It was far from the first time she’d told him that, but it was the first time she’d had mixed feelings about it. River wasn’t sure when exactly she had started looking upon the Time Lord as a friend of sorts, but it had happened somewhere along the way. It didn’t negate several decades of past history, but it did often serve to confuse the present.

The Doctor was giving her that knowing look he was so adept at. “You mean you won’t tell me.”

“I won’t tell you,” River agreed with a nod. “But think on this, Doctor. I’m here.” She glanced around the kitchen. “We’re up drinking tea together in the middle of the night, or whatever passes for night given that we’re nowhere near a sun. Whatever you may have done or may do to me. . .right now, at this moment, it doesn’t matter. All right?” 

The Doctor did seem to consider this, at least for a few seconds, and he smiled faintly. “I suppose that’s true enough.”

River returned the smile and stood up, taking her mug of tea. “I should get back to bed. I don’t want to leave Clint alone too long.”

She knew that what had been in Clint’s room had shaken him up more than he’d let on.

“Of course.” The Doctor looked as if he might well be planning to spend the night at the kitchen table. “Sleep well, River. I’ll have you all home by morning.”

“Good night, Doctor.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which River gets a bit of a respite from her assignment to monitor Tony Stark.

**The Seventh**

_April 2011_  
 _Malibu, California_

Sometimes, River thought, having an internal sense that told her precisely where she was in Time and Space was not such a great thing.

She had been trying to go to sleep for the last four hours. It shouldn’t have been a difficult matter. She was exhausted; running around after Tony Stark was not exactly an easy job. _Rachel Singer’s_ apartment in Malibu was posh down to the comfortable, king-sized bed. She should have been in dreamland the moment she’d gotten horizontal.

Malibu. That was the problem in a nutshell. Malibu was 2469 miles away from New York. Away from the base and her decidedly less posh, but familiar quarters. Away from Clint.

River sighed and rolled over again. By the time she’d gotten home tonight, it had been one o’clock in the morning in New York, far too late to call Clint. River knew that Clint wouldn’t actually mind her calling him, whatever the hour, but she didn’t want to wake him up in the middle of the night. She’d get up in an hour or so and catch him before he went breakfast. It wasn’t like she was going to fall asleep anyway.

She wasn’t homesick. She wasn’t. She was just. . .oh, screw it. She was homesick.

A faint noise from the living room caught her attention, and River bolted upright, all senses on alert, automatically going for the side-arm she had tucked under the side of her bed. But as the noise grew stronger in a familiar series of pulses, River put the gun aside and padded out of the bedroom.

The TARDIS was parked in front of the picture window with its view of the moonlit ocean. The Doctor was standing in the open doorway, leaning against the jamb.

“Doctor?” River said. “It’s two-thirty in the morning. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” The Doctor bounced himself off the jamb and stepped out into the room. “Amy and Rory had a thing they had to go off to do, so I’m on my own for a day or so. I thought I’d pop in on some of my other friends. I’m here to pick you up for your date.”

“My what?”

“Your date,” the Doctor repeated. “I had _wanted_ to surprise you with Clint himself, but he says he’s not allowed to get into the TARDIS without you.” 

The Doctor didn’t quite roll his eyes, but he sounded like he really wanted to. River smiled, amused.

“That’s the rule,” she said. She could feel her smile soften from one of amusement to something that might be called touched. “You want to take me and Clint on a date?”

“Well. . .” The Doctor shrugged. “Like I said, I had some time on my own and I knew the pair of you are working separately at the moment. I have it on good authority from Phil that you two get terribly moody if you’re apart for too long.” The Doctor clapped his hands together. “So. Date. The Singing Towers of Darillium. You two will love it. Get dressed. Be sure to bring a jacket. Hurry up. You don’t want to keep the man waiting.”

River could feel the exhaustion of her long day and sleepless night melting away. “I’ll be right back,” she said.

Step aside, Rachel Singer. Time to be River Song again for a bit.

“River, do get a move on!” the Doctor called from the living room, some fifteen minutes later.

River stuck her head out of the bathroom. “I haven’t seen my boyfriend in weeks, Doctor,” she called back. “You have a time machine. I have time to put on lipstick.”

Clint seemed to appreciate the effort, certainly, and had gone to some trouble himself. When the TARDIS materialized in his quarters, he was dressed, his hair was damp, and looked as if he’d hastily shaved. 

River grinned, teasing, as she rubbed her thumb against his jaw. “Hmm. I’d wager you were hoping for some kissing, weren’t you?”

Clint rested his shoulder against the TARDIS’s doorjamb, sliding his hands around River’s waist, lacing his fingers together at the small of her back. “Was planning on doing more than hope,” he said.

The Doctor pretended to desperately need to attend to something on the control panel until Clint and River finished saying hello.

On Darilluim, the Singing Towers were scattered like shining spindles over a series of low, rolling hills. The Doctor waved them toward a path.

“You’re not coming?” River asked.

“And play the gooseberry? No, of course not. I imagine the two of you have lots more kissing planned.” The Doctor made a show of cringing. “No one needs to watch that.” 

The Doctor’s words were offset by the fond smile he directed at the pair of them. “Off with you both. Have a good time.”

Clint and River started down the path, but River paused to look back. “Doctor? Thank you.”

The Doctor just waved them on.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's a mysterious hammer in New Mexico.
> 
> Short one this time around, but the events of _Thor_ will be getting their own full-on _Marvelous Tale_ twist.

**The Eighth**

_May 2011_  
 _New Mexico_

“Well. There’s something you don’t see every day,” River said.

She’d just flown in from New York. Other SHIELD agents were busy sweeping up the mess Queens was in after the attack at the Stark Expo. For her part, River was finished with her deep cover mission to shadow Tony Stark and had some downtime coming. 

Naturally, she’d caught the first jet bound for New Mexico. She’d barely had time to drop her gear before Clint had dragged her off to see the 0-8-4 that SHIELD had been sent to secure.

“Thoroughly and completely unmovable,” Coulson said. “Before we got the site secured, some of the locals even tried dragging it with a truck. Without success.”

They were standing around a dirt pillar, topped by a large metal hammer. Someone had drawn the job of digging out around it so that the hammer was closer to waist-level than being on the ground.

“We’re thinking alien?” River asked.

“Preliminary scans show readings that are similar to the Tesseract,” Coulson replied.

“Asgardian.” Clint shook his head with a grin. “I’ll bet you ten bucks the Doctor shows up.”

“One problem at a time,” Coulson said.

*****

“We never agreed to _pay_ you the ten dollars if he showed up.” 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the historical record becomes a wee bit problematic.

The Ninth

_October 2011_  
 _New York_

Coulson was working his way through his morning stack of paperwork when his cell phone rang. He frowned when he saw Fury’s name pop up on the screen.

“Hello?”

 _“Coulson.”_ Coulson automatically snapped to attention in his chair. Fury’s voice had that particular crack to it that meant someone was about to get their ass handed to them. _“I want you, Barton, and Song in my office in ten minutes. Round them up and get over here. Now.”_

“Yes, sir,” Coulson replied. But Fury had already ended the call.

Coulson dialed Clint’s cell phone on his way out of his office. Clearly, it was going to be one of those Tuesdays.

“Okay, why do you just assume that I did something to piss him off?” Clint said ten minutes later as the three of them approached the Director’s office.

“Statistics,” Coulson replied.

“Fury’s more than capable of yelling at Clint without the two of us being there,” River pointed out. “Whatever it is, it must involve all three of us.”

“Well, it can’t be a mission,” Coulson said, nodding a brief hello to Nadine, Fury’s secretary, as they passed through the outer office. 

The last three assignments they’d been sent on had gone by the book, even earning praise from the Director.

Fury regarded them sternly as they filed into his office, and he wasted no time on pleasantries (or lack thereof). 

“I want you,” he said, picking up a remote control and aiming it at the large screen on the wall, “to explain this. And it had better be good.”

The SHIELD logo disappeared to reveal the image of a painting. Coulson didn’t know a whole lot about art, but he knew he could peg this as being from the Renaissance Era.

Coulson felt both Clint and River glance guiltily at him. 

_Damn. Not bad likenesses_ , Coulson thought, not quite sure whether to be impressed or chagrinned. Just their luck, they had managed to meet an artist with a photographic memory for faces.

The painting showed a scene that centered around a stone tower. Two blonde-haired boys were being removed from the tower via a high window by three individuals: a man wielding a bow, another man wearing what looked suspiciously like a modern suit, and a woman in black with honey-brown hair, carrying a sword.

Coulson cleared his throat. “Where did this come from?” he asked.

“From what I’ve gathered it came from the attic of some manor house in England,” Fury said. “An auction house posted it on the internet this morning. They’re billing it as, and I quote,” Fury picked up a print out from his desk, _“A fine example of fifteenth century English artistry depicting a scene from a legend regarding the fate of Edward V of England and his brother, Richard of Shrewsbury, Duke of York._ It’s supposed to be a scene from an old story that describes how a band of angels rescued the Princes in the Tower.”

Fury dropped the print out back on his desk, folded his arms, and glared at the three of them. “SHIELD’s facial recognition software caught it an hour ago. I’m still waiting for that explanation.”

“Well. Sir.” It was definitely one of those Tuesdays. “Obviously if it was painted in the fifteenth century, it can’t possibly. . .oh.”

Fury fired at the screen with the remote control again, expanding the view to show the entire painting.

It might still have been in the realm of plausible deniability if it weren’t for the rest of the scene. On the ground, at the base of the tower, three other individuals were waiting: a tall, thin man with fair hair, a redheaded woman, and a man wearing a brown coat and bowtie.

The TARDIS was also very clearly depicted.

Clint and River were apparently (for once) deferring to their supervising officer, waiting for Coulson to answer Fury.

“Yeah,” Coulson said, looking at the painting. “I’ve got nothing, sir.”

“You’ve got _HALOS,”_ Fury boomed, loud enough that Nadine could probably hear him in the outer office. “Barton has fucking _wings._ This is _not funny,_ Song.”

River had her head bowed and would have looked very contrite were it not for the fact that she seemed to be finding the toes of her boots to be completely hilarious. Coulson would have kicked her if Clint hadn’t been standing in the way.

Clint held up his hand like he was in freaking first grade. “In my defense, sir, I would like to state that I did not, at any time, have wings.”

Oh, that was it. They were both dead. Coulson saw Fury swell up in preparation to explode.

“If I may, sir? This isn’t nearly as bad as it might seem,” Coulson said before the shouting could start.

Fury crossed his arms, waiting for him to continue.

“According to all historical accounts, the Princes in the Tower disappeared. That’s still exactly what happened, just not perhaps in the way it did in the original time stream.”

“Yeah, there really was a murder plot,” Clint said seriously. “That’s why we decided on the extraction. It’s nothing we haven’t done at least a dozen times before. Someone really was going to kill those kids.” Clint suddenly broke into a broad, gleeful grin. “But I have to tell you, all those historians would shit if they ever found out who was _really_ behind it.”

Fury held up his hands. “I don’t want to know. I don’t care,” he said. “What I do want to know is what you did with them. And please don’t tell me that we have two English princes from the 1400s running around New York City.”

“No, sir,” River said. “The Doctor found a place for them with an old friend of his.”

“A Mr. Kazran Sardick,” Coulson added. “They’re in the 44th Century on another planet. No complications for us here, sir.”

_“Kazran’s a good sort,” the Doctor had said as he’d whirled about the control platform, setting their destination as the two wide-eyed princes looked on. “We used to have a standing Christmas date. Long story. Anyway, he’s recently found himself alone, and I think a pair of children in the house is just what he needs.”_

Mr. Sardick had been an old man, a bit dour-looking, with sad eyes, but at the Doctor’s request he’d immediately brightened. He’d ushered them all into his massive house and insisted that the entire party stay to dinner. As foster parents went, Coulson thought that the Doctor could have picked worse.

“Cool planet, too,” Clint added. “Flying fish.”

Fury killed the screen with a bit more vigor than necessary.

“I accept the fact that the three of you are running off with the Doctor on God knows what kind of regular basis,” Fury said. “I don’t like it, but I accept that you’re doing it and I’m not going to tell you that you can’t.”

Which would, Coulson acknowledged, be well within the Director’s right. It was risking valuable assets to have three of his best agents going off with the Doctor. Coulson had been a little curious as to why Fury _hadn’t_ put the kibosh on their adventures in Time on Space, but he hadn’t wanted to push his luck by asking.

“However,” Fury added, glaring at all three of them, “I expect you to keep yourselves out of the historical record. Is that clear? The less I have to explain to. . .certain parties, the better. Is that understood?”

Coulson, Clint, and River nodded.

“Good. Now get out of here. I have to call Agent Stone and send him to London to acquire a painting.” Fury snorted. “If nothing else maybe it’ll class up the Fridge a little bit. Dismissed.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint really hates hospitals, no matter what world they're on.

**The Tenth**

_December 2011 /_  
 _The Year 897/#3 – St. Apollonia’s Hospital_

Clint Barton had spent enough time on the sick and injured list to know that hallucinating was never a good sign. 

“I swear to God, I just saw a giant cat in a nun outfit,” he muttered. 

He didn’t mutter it to anyone in particular. Clint just felt the need to put that out there.

The Doctor leaned into his line of sight. He had to bend quite a ways. Clint was slumped down in an uncomfortable metal chair, listing so that he was half-draped over one of the arms.

“You did,” the Doctor said. “Sisters of Plentitude. They operate some of the best hospitals in the Universe.”

Clint frowned, trying to make sense out of that. It wasn’t easy. His head pounded, his clothes were half-soaked in clammy sweat, and he was starting to itch something fierce.

On one hand, the Doctor’s words were reassuring. He wasn’t hallucinating.

On the other hand. . .cat nun.

Maybe hallucinating would be better.

“Jesus, I don’t feel good.” Clint reached up to dig at the rash that was creeping up his neck.

“Of course you don’t feel good. You have Ionian Flu. Stop scratching that.” 

The Doctor pulled Clint’s hand away from the rash. Clint struggled in an embarrassingly ineffectual manner for about three seconds before conceding defeat. Whatever the fuck Ionian Flu was, it was making him feel like a giant wet noodle.

He did scrape together enough energy to briefly lift his opposite hand (and, with an added moment of concentration, his middle finger) in response.

“Cantankerousness. That’s a good sign,” Rory said, pushing up a wheelchair. “Problem patients are a headache, but they’re usually good at fighting off disease.”

Clint glared at both of them. Or possibly all four of them. His vision was starting to do weird things.

“M’ _not_ a problem patient.”

“Of course you’re not. Come on, now. Up you get,” the Doctor said. With the Doctor lifting one side and Rory the other, they neatly transferred Clint to the wheelchair.

“You want to know who’s a problem patient? Phil,” Clint said. “Phil makes nurses cry.”

“I’ll consider myself warned,” Rory said, patting Clint’s shoulder.

Clint frowned, trying to focus as his chair started moving. “Where _is_ Phil? And River?”

“Phil, River, and Amy are still being examined,” Rory said. “The Sisters want to be sure that none of the rest of us are coming down with this. They’ll come find us when they’re done.”

They boarded an elevator and the Doctor pressed a series of buttons. They began to move upward. “So, when do I get to meet the dog monks?” Clint asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous. There are no dog monks,” the Doctor said. He looked down at Clint with a smile. “They’re friars.”

Clint let his head drop against the back of the wheelchair. He really hated hospitals.

*****

“Well, the good news is,” Dr. Levine said, eying a slide under her microscope, “you seem to be completely fine, and if this flu ever makes it to Earth, thanks to you we can now create a vaccine for it.” She sat back, turning off the scope. “We could name it after you.”

Clint held up his hands. “No thanks,” he said. “If I’m going to be immortalized, I’d rather it not be for an alien bug that gives you a huge rash on your--”

“So, are we free to go?” River interrupted. “Because as much as I love Phil, he’s starting to become a very testy roommate.”

When they’d gotten home, three days ago, Coulson had insisted that they all be checked over by Medical, just to be on the safe side. They’d been in Quarantine ever since. Coulson _really_ didn’t appreciate it when Clint and River pointed out that he had no one but himself to blame.

“Yes. I’m officially kicking you all out,” Dr. Levine said. “Oh, and agents? I don’t know what exactly you’ve all been getting up to, but go easy on bringing home new and exciting germs for me. I have a day job, you know.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint and River have four days of leave together.

**The Eleventh**

_February 2012_  
 _New York_

They had four days of leave together.

For Clint it was four days away from the protection detail he’d been assigned to in New Mexico. He’d been on it since November, monitoring Selvig and his minions while they worked on the Tesseract. Clint had never hated an assignment to the extent that he hated this one. The job itself was boring and Selvig was a bona fide pain in the ass. The physicist seemed to like working for SHIELD just fine, liked lording it over a fancy lab and having all the latest toys at his disposal. 

He didn’t like having a monitor, though. Selvig didn’t expend much energy hiding his contempt for Clint whenever they had to interact. As far as Selvig was concerned, Clint was dumb hired muscle, incapable of grasping what the science team was working on.

Clint spent a lot of time maintaining a poker face while thinking, _Fuck you, buddy. I’ve actually traveled in Time and Space. Have you?_

Clint had even gone so far as to protest to Fury that he would be of far more use on another job. _Any_ other job. Someplace where action was needed. Someplace where he could work with his partner, dammit.

Fury had actually heard him out and, when he denied Clint’s request, had done so with what, for the Director, was close to understanding.

_“The Tesseract project is top priority right now, and I need a close and trusted eye kept on it. You’re good at keeping watch, Barton.” Fury rested his elbows on his desk. “And thanks to certain connections I know you have—for example, a certain alien time traveler-- you’ll know how to spot threats that other people won’t even know to look for.”_

Clint had pointed out that River could do that as well, but Fury had been adamant that her skills were needed elsewhere.

This time it was to be Russia, a deep cover assignment to unearth a thriving black market. She was shipping out on Thursday, alone, and she’d be gone a minimum of eight weeks unless something went wrong. She’d be fine. Clint knew she’d be fine because River was one of the best. He was still half-tempted to flout orders and stow away on her jet.

Yeah. That would go over well.

River would go to Russia and he would go back to New Mexico, but in the meantime, they had four days. Clint had a pretty strong suspicion that Coulson had pulled some strings so that their downtime overlapped. They had spent the first two days holed up in River’s apartment making up for too many weeks of separation. 

SHIELD agents weren’t made for being cooped up for too long, though, no matter how pleasant the circumstances, so on the third day Clint and River ventured out for a walk.

“Happy Valentine’s,” Clint said as they strolled along.

He hadn’t forgotten the day, and even if he had, window after window decorated with flowers and glossy red hearts would have reminded him. He and River had never held the day especially sacred, though. Even before they’d officially been a couple, their relationship had gone deeper than candy hearts and Hallmark cards.

“Valentine’s Day,” River said, squeezing his hand as they strolled along the sidewalk. “And Phil has a date. How bizarre is that?”

“Pretty bizarre,” Clint replied. 

During Clint’s exile in the Land of Enchantment, Coulson had apparently gone and got himself a girlfriend. Clint really couldn’t wrap his head around that. Coulson had had some casual relationships over the years, sure. He’d had his long-term friends-with-benefits thing in Arlington since before Clint had known him. But Coulson had never _dated._

“Have you met her?” Clint asked. “Gail the Cellist?”

River shook her head. “No. All I know about her is what I’ve heard from Phil.” She arched an eyebrow at Clint. “And from reading her file.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Honestly? Not a damn thing.” River shook her head. “She’s perfectly innocuous. Dullest record I’ve ever read.”

“That doesn’t sound like Phil. Does it?” Clint had never known Coulson to go for _boring._

“Phil’s a big boy,” River said. “I’m sure he knows what he’s about.” Though even River sounded a little doubtful.

They strolled through the city enjoying the cold sunny day, eventually finding their way to Central Park. That was where the day got considerably less quiet.

They were taking a walking path through the woods when a voice came from off in the trees. “No, not that way! Right! The _other_ right! Cut them off!”

Clint and River both stopped stock still.

“Is that who I think it is?”

“It can’t be. Can it?”

The question was laid to rest when the Doctor jumped out of the shrubbery wearing what looked like a cross between a catcher’s mask and miner’s helmet. One leg of his trousers was tattered to the knee, and he was holding a bow and arrow at ready like some giant demented British cupid.

“Clint! River!” The Doctor lowered the bow and raised his mask. “What in the world are you doing here?”

“We’re taking a walk,” River said. “What are you. . .are you hunting something? In Central Park?”

“Hunting? No, not hunting. Herding, more like. The bow and arrows are just precaution. They can be very feisty. Long story.” The Doctor turned back to the trees. “Amy! Rory! We have two extra hands!”

Clint glanced at River who just smiled and shrugged. 

“Okay, sure. Why not?” Clint said. “What are we doing?”

“Come this way. I’ll show you.”

“Doc? Give me the bow before you hurt yourself.”

“Yes. Right you are.”

*****

Clint and River were more than happy to collapse into bed that evening, for more reasons than one.

*****

On Thursday morning, River reported to the base hanger to catch the jet that would be flying her to London. She would meet a contact there before catching a commercial flight into St. Petersburg. Clint’s ride back to New Mexico wasn’t leaving for another two hours, but he was there to see her off.

They had said good-bye properly in private earlier. They did still like to keep up certain appearances on base, even if anyone who might be observing knew that they were just appearances. Clint followed River onto the jet and helped her stow her gear.

“I won’t be able to call,” River said. “But Phil will get regular updates.”

“I’m sure he’ll pass them along,” Clint replied.

They didn’t say _I’ll miss you._ There really was no need of it.

There was also no need to say, “Be careful,” but Clint said it anyway.

His frown lines were working overtime. River knew Clint hated seeing her go out into the field without being able to go along to watch her back. She wanted to reach up and smooth them out, but that was more of a public display than they ought to risk with the pilots and flight crew milling about.

“I will,” River replied instead. “Don’t you get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”

That got him to smile. “In New Mexico? The only trouble I have out there is sand in my socks and a stick-up-his-ass Swedish scientist. When you get back you’ll have to come out. You can help me plan some pranks or something to liven things up.”

“It’s a date.” Public displays be damned, River leaned up and gave him a quick kiss while the pilots had their backs turned. “I’ll see you in the spring.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which River makes a call of her own.

**Epilogue**

_April 2012_  
 _Calcutta, India_

 _Fuck Fury._ That largely summed up River’s present state of mind.

Clint should have been _safe_ in New Mexico. He had been assigned to oversee security on Selvig’s lab because the Tesseract project was sensitive, not because there had been any active threats against it. God knew, the times River had gone out to visit she had been astounded at the number of people who had been coming and going from the facility.

If Fury had had any inkling that the situation _wasn’t_ safe, he should have assigned River to the detail as well. She should have been with her partner, not sniffing out a trail of tanks and old paintings in Russia.

If she had been there, she could have kept Clint from being taken.

But she hadn’t been there, and Clint had been captured and brainwashed. Compromised. Every instinct River had told her she should be out there looking for him, but instead she was in Calcutta on retrieval and babysitting detail.

River had secured Banner. He was standing several yards away by the van, nervously watching the SHIELD teams pass back and forth as they prepared for departure. Objectively, River understood that Banner, for all of his eccentricities, was the world’s foremost expert on Gamma radiation, which meant he should be able to track the stolen Tesseract (and therefore, hopefully, lead them to Clint). The man had a brilliant mind.

He also had a sick sense of humor if that little stunt he had pulled back at the shack was anything to go by. It had taken River’s heart an embarrassingly long time to slow down once she’d realized that the Hulk was not, in fact, about to erupt. It wasn’t like she would have stood a chance against that, no matter how many armed units Fury had sent to back her up.

And this was a guy Fury wanted on his team?

River had her own ideas about the task force that Fury was assembling to hunt down Loki of Asgard. Fury was bringing in the big guns, but there was one that, according to Coulson, he hadn’t called. One that he was refusing to call. River didn’t know why. She didn’t really believe that Fury didn’t have the capability. More likely it was because he didn’t want to hear an _I told you so_ about the Tesseract. 

Honestly, she didn’t particularly care about the Director’s reasons.

River turned away from the scene of the departure preparations, away from the sight of Banner and the SHIELD teams. She walked a few feet away into the darkness and switched on her phone. River thumbed to her Contacts, scrolling to the number all the way at the bottom. 

She didn’t have authorization for what she was about to do, but so the hell what?

The call was picked up on the fifth ring. “Hello?”

River felt the knot in her chest ease ever so slightly.

Not even three years ago, it had taken an exploding building to make her consider this an acceptable recourse. How things had changed.

“Doctor, it’s River.” 

Dawn was starting to break over the hills beyond the airfield and, for the first time since Coulson had called her in Russia, she felt something like hope. 

“ Look, whatever you’re doing, I need you to drop it and get here as soon as you can,” River said. “I need your help.”

***To Be Very Very Continued. Stay Tuned!***


End file.
